Solution

She couldn't decide if she loved him
so she belted the garden umbrella with his pecan silk tie
to see if it would hold
and asked for it to rain like misery.

She couldn't decide if she loved him
so she cisored strips of skin from her feet
and made configurations in pastry
with the ridge of the rind.

She couldn't decide if she loved him
so she took a job in the Trample Park.
She loved the throe of mucro, the stillness of pain
the placidity of a penis

when lead by high shoes.
Those high topped shoes,

like love with no knickers.